


Trespasser

by pickleinspectorgadget



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Trespasser DLC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:30:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7153598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pickleinspectorgadget/pseuds/pickleinspectorgadget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this kind of quickly (been wanting to write it out for a while and I felt like I needed to post something in between everything else) so I apologize if there are any errors. Basically what would have happened with my Lavellan at the end of Trespasser. It's probably been done a thousand times, but whatever, lets make it a thousand and one. Not a whole lot else to say, but I hope you enjoy it.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Trespasser

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this kind of quickly (been wanting to write it out for a while and I felt like I needed to post something in between everything else) so I apologize if there are any errors. Basically what would have happened with my Lavellan at the end of Trespasser. It's probably been done a thousand times, but whatever, lets make it a thousand and one. Not a whole lot else to say, but I hope you enjoy it.

He stares back at the mirror as it closes, a quiet clink ringing in his ears. He hesitates to turn and take a step and is startled by a towering Qunari, ready to attack, but frozen in stone. A curse was pushed from his lips, a his unmarked hand moving to run through his now short hair before continuing forward through the maze of frozen men. Each step causes anxiety to course through him, heart nearly jumping into his throat. A familiar sight in the distance makes something in him leap, and he quickly finds himself breaking into a sprint. He can hear his honey like voice clearly from where he stops at the top of the steps.

Somehow, even after all these years, just the sight of him makes his stomach flutter.

Only after the Vidasalla is frozen does he dare to approach his lover- _former_ lover.

“Solas.” Lavellan manages to croak out the name. After he’d disappeared, it had gotten hard to say his name. It had gone unused around Skyhold over the last 3 years, as the Inquisitor’s reactions morphed from sorrow to hostility. Companion, advisor, and guest alike had quickly learned to merely refer to Solas as _him_ , either out of respect or fear. 

The blond began to take steps as the other mage began to turn, but was stopped dead when the mark began to flare up again, ripping a pained cry from his throat. His other hand gripped the sparking arm as he practically crumbled to the ground. The pain was great enough that he didn’t hear the quiet splashes of water under the approaching man’s feet, though when he looked up he was right there. His eyes glowed briefly and just like that, the anchor was calmed.

“That should give us more time.” Solas started as the other stood on shaking legs, closely resembling a newborn halla at that point. “I suspect you have questions.” He offered but a small smile to the shell-shocked elf.

“The Qunari answered some of them…” Sidhion started as he regained his composure, eyes drifting toward the ground. “What I found while traveling through the eluvians answered more.” They stood in silence for a handful of seconds before looking back up. “You’re Fen’Harel. _You’re_ the Dread Wolf.”

“Well done,” Solas said with a slight nod. “I was Solas first. Fen’Harel came later… An insult I took as a badge of pride.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips, stormy eyes searching the widened ones, feet in front of him. “The Dread Wolf inspired hope in my friends, and fear in my enemies… Not unlike Inquisitor, I suppose.” A chuckle bubbled up from his throat as his brows knit together, and his face turns away. “And now you know... What is the old Dalish curse? May the Dread Wolf take you?”

A shaky nod. “And so he did…” A quiet croak. ”If you had just… told me.” Lavellan could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

“Then you would carry the same burden I do.”

“I _want_ to. _Ma ghilana, vhenan_.” Solas only lowered his head. “And the legends?”

“I sought to set my people free from slavery to would-be gods.” He said simply, eyes raising to trace the bright lines still etched into his face. Mythal’s brand. Despite what they’d said that night, it still bothered him that he was forever bound to one of them.

_”I don’t wear the vallaslin for the ancient elves, I wear it for me.” Lavellan offered him a soft smile._

_“I know.”_

_“I know you told me because you wanted to help, but it’s part of who I am. I hope you can see past-”_

_“Stop.” Solas smiled, pressing a finger to his lips. His hand moved to caress the other mage’s cheek. “You are perfect as you are.”_

“I broke the chains of all who wished to join me.” He turned and began wandering towards the cliff, the Inquisitor following after. “The false gods called me Fen’Harel, and when they finally went too far, I formed the veil and banished them forever.” The pair looked out at the view before them. It reminded Lavellan of their first night together, the view from the balcony. His heart throbbed painfully. “Thus I freed the elven people and, in doing so, destroyed their world.”

Question after question tumbled from one elf, and answers from the other. Each one making the Inquisitor’s brows knit tighter together.

“That’s the past. What about the future?”

“I lay in dark and dreaming sleep while countless wars and ages passed. I woke still weak a year before I joined you.” They began to wander again, this time closer to the looming eluvian. “My people fell for what I did to strike the Evanuris down, but still some hope remains for restoration.” A small glimmer of hope rose to Sidhion’s face. Saving his people? Restoring what once was? “I will save the elven people, even if it means _this_ world must die.”

“But… Why does this world have to die for the elves to return?” He took another step closer, swallowing nervously and dipping his head to the side, wanting to see his face once more.

“A good question, but not one I will answer.” Solas hung his head and sighed. “I am not Corypheus, I take no joy in this. But the return of my people means the end of yours.” They stood silent for a long moment. What could he do? He didn’t want this world to be destroyed, he loved the people he’d met, the places he’d visited but… He couldn’t stop thinking about his own people. Their suffering in this world.

“Let me help you, Solas.”

“I cannot do that to you, vhenan.” He raised his head and turned it to the side, staring off into the distance. 

“But you would do it to yourself?” He spat, a long buried anger beginning to bubble up. “I can’t bear to think of you alone again.”

“I walk the din’anshiral. There is only death on this journey.” He begins to turn as the Inquisitor lowers his head. “I would not have you see what I become.” Solas takes a deep, wavering breath before continuing. “It is my fight. You should be more concerned about the inquisition. Your inquisition. In stopping the dragon’s breath, you’ve prevented an invasion by Qunari forces. With luck, they will return their focus to Tevinter. That should give you a few years of relative peace.” 

Lavellan shook his head and sighed, his gaze again falling to the floor. “I can’t believe this…”

“You must understand. I awoke in a world where the veil blocked most people’s conscious connection to the fade,” He took a small step forward, lifting a hand briefly, as if to lift the other’s face, but he clenched his hand and let it drop back to his side. “It was like walking through a world of tranquil.”

“We aren’t even people to you?” Lavellan’s jaw and fists clenched, it was all he could do not to punch him. After everything they’d been through, how could he say something like that?

“Not at first. You showed me that I was wrong… Again.” A gloved reached out to finally brush a clenched fist. “That does not make what must come next any easier.” The clenched fist loosened enough that the gloved fingers could intertwine with his.

“There’s still the matter of the anchor. It’s getting worse.” He said in a quiet, solemn voice, all anger melting away as he held the other’s hand tightly.

“I know, vhenan, and we are running out of time.” And like clockwork, his free hand, that accursed hand flared up. He yanked his right hand from Solas’s grip and firmly held his own wrist as he once again fell to his knees. Solas knelt down in front of him, his own face twisted in pain. It hurt him to see his love like this. “The mark will eventually kill you. Drawing you here gave me a chance to save you… at least for now.”

“Solas, _var lath vir suledin_.”

“I wish it could, vhenan,” He sighed, eyes drifting to the erratically sparking hand before sliding closed. A pained cry made him look at the other mage again. “My love…” He leaned closer, a hand caressing Lavellan’s cheek. Sid only caught a glimpse of those glowing eyes before his slipped shut, warm lips pressing into his. When he pressed back, Solas pulled away and rose to his feet. “I will never forget you.” Was all he’d said before turning and making his way toward the eluvian.

“No…” The Inquisitor forced out the breath he wasn’t aware that he was holding, tears finally spilling. “Don’t leave me again.” Solas merely continued to walk from him. He tried to reach out, grab his hand, use magic, anything to stop him but… Nothing. He was too far.

Somehow he managed to get back to his feet and chase after Solas, though once he was within arms reach, he passed through the mirror and locked it behind him. The marked hand pressed against the cool glass, his other hand soon joining it. He stared into his slightly warped reflection before lightly smacking the surface. Open palm smacking quickly turned into closed fisted hammering.

“Come back! Take me with you! Please!” His shouting and pounding continued until he’d finally crumpled to the ground, his forehead pressed against the smooth surface, shouts now nothing but soft croaks and sobs. “Don’t leave me…” 

Seconds ticked by. Seconds quickly turned into minutes, as they tend to do. His sobs died down, and soon he was just sitting there, face wet and hot and pounding from the stress. Lavellan was tired. Tired of all of this. Tired of the council, tired of the whole act, tired of the _inquisition_. He never wanted this, he only stuck around because he was the only person able to do it.

He heard distant voices and footsteps. They got closer and closer, and he could finally tell the voices were concerned. Nearly frantic. Though one was clear, as if the person was right behind him.

“It was for your own good. He wants you to keep going. Knows you’re tired, tearing- ah...” The voice stops as the Inquisitor’s hands drop from the mirror into his lap. “Torn.” They take a careful step forward and rest a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry… I made it worse.”

“You can’t help some things, Cole.” 

He turns his face to the side, peeking over his shoulder at the staircase in time to see Cassandra and Blackwall reach the top of the stairs. Cassandra utters a “thank the Maker” and jogs closer. She is clearly shaken. 

“Are you alright? Where is Solas?” 

Lavellan stared at her before turning back to the mirror to stare at himself.

“Gone.” His sadness began to turn to rage. “He is going to restore our people.”

“That’s great news,” Blackwall piped up.

“To do it, he has to tear down the veil… Which will destroy this world,” The Inquisitor finally rose to his feet, dusting off his pants before turning around and staring at his friends blankly. “I don’t need to tell you why that’s bad, I hope.” 

The mark sparked, threatening to tear at his very being, and Sid simply glanced down at his arm. 

“Come on, we need to get back.” He took several long strides forward before stopping, mark once again sparking. “But first… Cassandra?” He turned to look at her, holding his right hand out. “May I borrow your sword? Just for a moment.”

Cassandra’s brows knitted together in confusion before unsheathing her sword and handing it over. She watched closely as he took hold of it and ran his fingertips along the edge, testing its sharpness. She began to get nervous as he made his way toward the “statue” of the vidasalla. 

“What are you-” She began to ask as he laid the arm across the bent stone arm, but silenced herself when he turned to look at her, the first smile she’d seen on his face in over a year.

He raised the blade and swung.

**Author's Note:**

> By the way, if you wanna get ahold of me or request something or whatever, I have a tumblr.  
> pickleinspectorgadget.tumblr


End file.
